


Difference of Normal

by BlueBirdys



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alter Egos, Episode: s03e06 Astro B.O.Y.D.!, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past physical abuse, Psychological Trauma, Repressed Memories, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24068893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBirdys/pseuds/BlueBirdys
Summary: Gyro knew he was different than years before. And he couldn’t fault Boyd for missing how he used to be. But it wasn’t like he could go back to how he was.Could he?
Relationships: B.O.Y.D. (Disney: DuckTales) & Gyro Gearloose, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera & Gyro Gearloose
Comments: 53
Kudos: 227





	1. Cucumber Sushi

**Author's Note:**

> I've watched Astro B.O.Y.D. no less than 15 times now, and it absolutely breaks me and puts me back together. And I wrote all these chapters in less than three days. I'll be releasing it on a loose schedule for the next few weeks, so stay alert.
> 
> I'll give individual warnings for chapters coming ahead, but just be warned, the story deals with the trauma of psychological abuse as well as both hints and descriptions of physical abuse. And there's some not so family friendly language, so it's rated T.
> 
> Thank you so much to my friend CosmicTanzanite for proofreading this as well as his epic support of this story as I was writing it.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else, darling?” Mrs. Drake asked one last time, wringing her hands worriedly as she switched between looking in front of her and behind her. 

“I’m well prepared, mother! After all, Dr. Gearloose has more than enough necessities for me in his lab!” Boyd assured her with utmost optimism. The backpack his parents gave him was already stuffed to the brim with various sleepover and adventuring supplies, and he likely wasn’t going to need half of it, but Junior Woodchuck’s motto said to always be double prepared! 

The Drakes had been nervous but ultimately supportive at their golden robo-child’s proposal of shared custody with Gyro Gearloose, wanting Boyd to be given a chance to connect to his heritage....even if it was just android science. And now that Gyro had reached the understanding that everything in the past was neither of their faults, he was more than happy to welcome Boyd into the family. At least, that’s what Boyd was certain of.

Doofus had been standing behind both his parents, his blank stare leaving the two uneasy to be left with him alone until next Monday, but they didn’t want Boyd to worry.

“Does um...Dr. Gearloose need a carseat for you?” his father asked, keeping an eye on the driveway to see when the scientist would arrive.

“Oh, he can’t drive! But he gets his license back in 4 months.” Boyd smiled sweetly.

Just before he could ask for further info, Mr. Drake was interrupted by the sound of terrified screaming and jet turbines, as a lanky chicken flew uncontrollably over the metal fence, crashing face first into bushes. Small bursts of flame sputtered out from the rollerskates on his feet, and after they only dispensed smoke, Gyro sat upright, branches and leaves tangled in his hair.

“Hello, 2-B- I mean,  _ Boyd! _ ” he nodded, adjusting his askew glasses.

“Dr. Gearloose!” Boyd cheered as he rushed into a cheerful leap for the chicken’s arms, just barely being caught. Awkwardly administering a half-hug, Gyro continued to hold Boyd as he stood upright, approaching the Drakes. 

“I assume the number you gave me is up to date. If you need to reach me at any point, just call McDuck Enterprises and they’ll transfer the call to me,” he assured the parents.

“Fabulous, wonderful, now please exit my property!” Doofus shouted from behind his parents, who managed to ignore him. They both gave last hugs and kisses to Boyd before leaving him in Gyro’s care.

“Is that other child of theirs normally so barbaric?” Gyro asked, glancing behind himself as he exited the driveway with Boyd.

“He’s not that bad!” Boyd smiled from Gyro’s arm. “Sometimes we play ‘hide-and-dont-find-me.’ He said I’m the best at hiding.”

“Hm.” Gyro decided not to ask further, sailing down the street at a leisurely roll in his rollerskates.

“Are the jet-propeller skates new?” Boyd smiled.

“A bit of a side project I’d been putting off for a while.” Gyro shrugged. “Why, you like ‘em?”

“They’re awfully neat! Can we use them on the way to the lab?”

“As much as I’d like to, they only had enough jet fuel to get me to your parents, so we’ll have to settle for the bus,” Gyro explained, dryly apologetic.

“That’s ok! We can play ‘Regular Car/Transformer’!”

“Wha?”

“You don’t remember? We used to play that game all the time in Tokyolk! We’d get on the bus and tally how many cars we thought were regular cars and which were secretly robots!” Boyd smiled, ear to ear.

The little robot’s smile dropped just a fraction when Gyro didn’t appear to be all that enthralled with the idea.

“It’s been a while since then,” Gyro admitted. “I’d be lying if I said I fully remembered that.”

“Oh...well,” Boyd smiled encouragingly, “do you remember buying me ice cream? Or letting me walk around the plazas?”

“For someone who forgot a lot of your programming, you certainly remember more than I do.” Gyro smirked softly, giving a tired snort as he boarded the newly arrived bus.

“It’s just little things! I’m surprised you don’t remember that!”

“I have a harder time with little things, unfortunately,” Gyro admitted, settling down in a seat by the window, plopping Boyd beside him.

“Can I have the window seat?” Boyd asked, only slightly pleased as Gyro wordlessly switched with him. 

As Gyro undid his skates off his shoes, Boyd took to looking out the window as the bus began rolling to its next destination. The silence that followed was unusual for Boyd but not uncomfortable.

“I’ve already seen three dogs! he announced as the bus made its first stop a couple minutes later. “One with gray, one with spots, and one with gray spots.”

“That’s nice.” Gyro gave a nod, glancing from the corner of his eye as he then shifted his stare back up at the bus ceiling.

“...When did you get new glasses? I remember you having the little ones.” Boyd looked up at him.

“I think about ten years ago. The little ones didn’t help my sight much.”

“Oh. What about your hair? It’s shorter now.”

“I liked it shorter.” Gyro adjusted his bangs. “It was starting to get in the way when I worked.”

“I think I liked it how it was,” Boyd admitted politely.

“Well, someday I might grow it out again. Or maybe I’ll go bald.”

“No!” Boyd gasped. “Don’t go bald!”

Gyro held back a snicker, hoisting Boyd up with one arm as they reached their destination and headed down into the lab.

“Do you think I’ve gotten any heavier since you last held me?” Boyd decided to ask.

“Not significantly, no. Why, did you add weights to yourself?”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to see if I was growing,” Boyd chirped. “I remember you tried measuring my height.”

“Now why would I do that?” Gyro asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not like you’re actually growing, right?”

“No...I guess not.” Boyd drooped a little, realizing that Dr. Gearloose wasn’t as playful as he remembered him from the younger days in Tokyolk.   
  
In the lab, Gyro didn’t exactly seem all that prepared for activities with Boyd, simply plopping the boy down and heading over to his own workstation. Lil Bulb had been running on a tiny treadmill, decked in an equally tiny sweatband and running shorts, allowing a long rolled list of numbers to spit out of a machine.

“What’s this for?” Boyd asked, watching the tiny lightbulb run.

“I’m testing new filaments on Bulb to see if they can last longer and produce more energy.”

After a few minutes of watching in silence, Boyd got a bit bored and playfully flicked a switch on the treadmill that caused it to go forward instead of back. The sudden shift visibly spooked Lil Bulb, nearly sending him tumbling over the front of the treadmill.

Gyro yelped and immediately switched it back, giving a stern glare to Boyd. “Do  _ not _ touch anything unless I say you can!” 

“I-I’m sorry, I was only playing!” Boyd shuffled his feet, staring down with shame.

The scientist gave a sigh. “It’s alright. Just please don’t touch the inventions in operation, okay?”

Boyd gave a slow nod, still looking down at his feet as he sulked away. It certainly seemed that Gyro had changed from the days back in Japan. He was nice, but he just didn’t seem like he wanted to play as much anymore. 

“When does Huey come by?” Boyd asked, sitting on the floor to look at the elevator.

“Within the next hour or so,” Gyro called from over his shoulder, nose deep in notes and blueprints. “Unless he got sidetracked going ga-ga over Dr. Crackshell-Cabrera in the Gizmodork suit.”

It ended up not taking too long for the duckling to arrive in the lab, more than excited to see Boyd. The JWG-approved activities the two came up with had all but helped Boyd forget his disappointments. But after completing a scale model of three different architectural landmarks, Boyd couldn’t help but recall familiar memories of doing the same with his paternal creator.

“Does Dr. Gearloose ever build these models?” Boyd asked as he helped Huey put the finishing touches on the Taj Mahal.

“Dr. Gearloose? Models? Nah, I think he prefers building things that set stuff on fire,” Huey laughed.

“Oh. I remember before...well...everything, sometimes he would build models of shrines with me, and we’d keep them on a shelf in his office.”

“That sounds different from the Dr. Gearloose I know,” Huey playfully answered.

“Yeah...it’s a lot different...has he been like this all the time?”

Huey sensed the worry in Boyd’s expression and gently touched his friend’s shoulder. “Yeah, but...it’s okay, you know? People change. Gyro’s older, and he’s not gonna be the same guy he was...what, 15? 20 years ago?”

“I don’t even know how long.” Boyd shook his head. “Does he tell you when his birthday is?”

“Of course not. He says birthdays are a ploy by the government to sell balloons and greeting cards.”

“Of course,” Boyd sighed.

While the boys built and chattered, Gyro worked on his various projects. Whilst Lil Bulb took a break from the treadmill, the chicken had opted to start drafting blueprints for a new project Mr. McDuck had commissioned for the board. He’d hardly paid attention in that meeting, something about a particle splitter, but he’d request the notes from his boss again later. He could at least get a start on the base plans until then.

He leaned forward over the table and winced. Maybe he needed a break.

“Cabrera?” Gyro looked over to Fenton’s desk where the duck was busy drafting plans for his own inventions. “Do you have aspirin? I left mine at home.”

“Sure thing! Are your joints acting up again?”

“Back. I think I was slouching for too long.”

“Maybe you need a chiropractor,” Fenton suggested as he rooted through his drawer, finding a tiny bottle of store-brand pain reliever.

“I think I need my bones replaced with metal,” Gyro groaned, flexing his back a bit to temporarily relieve the soreness.

Fenton laughed softly. “I hope I’m not as sore as you when I get that old.”

“I’m hardly that much older than you,” Gyro muttered. “I’m by no means geriatric.”

“Whatever you say.”    
  
Fenton smiled, throwing the bottle over his shoulder. His aim was slightly miscalculated, and it fell just short of Gyro’s desk, bursting and sending pills all over the floor. There was a long silence as Gyro looked from the pills, to Fenton, then back and forth, slumping in the chair with a long sigh.

“Cabrera, remind me to never ask to borrow your coffee cups.”

* * *

By the time evening hit, Huey had headed home, hitching a ride from Launchpad, and Fenton and Gyro did end-of-day clean up, locking up the stairwells as they headed out. Boyd kept himself entertained by flying low circles around the lab until Gyro was ready to go.

“See you tomorrow, Cabrera.” Gyro waved as he headed for the bus stop with Boyd.

“I thought Saturdays were your day off?” Boyd tugged Gyro’s sleeve as he walked alongside him.

“Not for the last several years.”

“When are your days off then?”

“When I’m plagued with the flu or a family member dies.”

“So...we’ll be spending all weekend in the lab while you work?” Boyd asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

“I mean, we don’t have to,” Gyro replied. “Mr. McDuck hardly minds if I take a longer lunch break. Probably something about him not wanting to pay me overtime.”

Gyro decided to get takeout for supper, letting Boyd pick the restaurant. Excited for another opportunity of bonding, Boyd decided on sushi, picking everything he thought would be the most fun to share. The kitchen table in Gyro’s studio apartment was small but serviceable as they both ate.

“Did you and Harvey have fun?” Gyro asked as he dipped a cucumber roll in soy sauce.

“Huey,” Boyd corrected, “and we did! Did you know that St. Cardinal’s Cathedral has a false staircase in its middle spiral? We discovered it while building the model!”

“Interesting.”

“Do you want to trade?” Boyd smiled, holding a nigiri in his hand.

Gyro held a hand up, barely apologetic. “I’m actually vegetarian now. Sorry.”

“Oh….well...then should I be one too?”

“What? You don’t have to. I just decided to be one years ago.”

“...Okay.”

After a long silence in which Boyd didn’t touch his food, Gyro sighed, “It’s really not a big deal. You can still eat meat. I don’t mind at all.”

In spite of Gyro’s attempt at an encouraging smile, Boyd didn’t quite feel hungry anymore.

“Do you want a bite of mine at least?” Gyro offered.

“I don’t like cucumbers,” Boyd admitted.

“Oh right. I guess I forgot,” the chicken sighed with a slight smile, not noticing the frown growing on Boyd’s face when he turned his head.

After dinner was cleaned up, the two of them could at least be relieved that they shared a common preference for an early bedtime before 10 pm. 

“Normally, I pull allnighters, but I don’t think your parents would be happy with that,” Gyro admitted as he set up the couch with the softest pillows and blankets he could find (which wasn't much.)

“That’s okay,” Boyd chirped, “I like waking up early so I can do all my chores while the day is new!”

“Maybe you can clean this apartment for me,” Gyro snorted, gesturing to the mess throughout his abode. 

“I’d love to!” Boyd adjusted the portable charger plugged into the back of his head. “Can I also make breakfast?”

“I usually don’t eat breakfast, but you can make some for yourself,” Gyro offered.

“Oh...well...alright!”

Once Boyd crawled under the blankets Gyro had stacked on the couch, he looked up at the chicken, hoping for at least one thing he remembered from the past.

Gyro seemed more invested in feeding his cat and locking the doors and windows. When he caught sight of Boyd’s expectant face, he tilted his head. “Do you need anything before lights out?”   


“I just thought you were going to tuck me in.”

“There’s not much to tuck in on this couch, but...alright.” Gyro threw a blanket over Boyd in a half-hearted effort. “Goodnight.”

“Wait, what about a story?”

“I’m really tired. Perhaps tomorrow?”

Boyd shifted his gaze down to the blanket, sighing as he sunk down against the couch cushions. “Alright...goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Boyd kept his head pressed against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling tiles and counting the tiny grains in each of them as he heard Gyro change into a nightshirt and pajama bottoms, brush his teeth and wash his face.

“Dr. Gearloose?” he spoke up, peering over the back of the couch.

“Yes?” Gyro finished applying a moist face mask, hissing in frustration as some of his hair caught under it.

“Do you think I’ve turned any different?”

“Not significantly, no,” Gyro mused as he walked toward his bed. “You’re as much of a definitely real boy as when I first created you.” 

He grabbed a small capsule of joint balm, sitting on the bed as he rolled up his pajama bottoms to apply it to his knees, then his elbows. Boyd then noticed strange marks that the chicken’s nightshirt didn’t cover like his every day clothes.   
  
“Those come off in the shower right?”

Gyro saw Boyd’s gaze focused on the art his arm displayed. “No, these are permanent.”

“Why did you get them?”

“I liked them at the time. I don’t pay much attention to them now,” Gyro admitted. “Don’t get any ideas though. Ink on synthetic skin is a pain to remove if you try to strip it later.”

“Oh.”

Gyro removed the face mask, tossing it in his wastebasket. 

“Any more questions before lights out?”

“No,” Boyd mumbled, sinking back down on the couch like a deflated balloon.

Gyro certainly noticed his disappointment. “Anything the matter?”

Boyd adverted the inventor’s stare. “You...seem different than when you created me.”

Gyro shrugged. “It’s a given. People change over time.”

“I know...but….you seem  _ really _ different.”

Somehow, the tone of Boyd’s voice reflected loud and clear to Gyro just exactly what he was saying. That Gyro was  _ too _ different. 

“Okay then.”

He walked to turn off the remaining light in the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Gyro took a second to step inside, and peer closer at his face. In all the photos he’d salvaged of himself and Boyd, he’d been grinning from ear to ear, eyes sparkling with idealistic glee and face as fresh as the fictional youths of Neverland. And here he was, bags under the eyes, face accustomed to being at a neutral glum.

Gyro knew he’d changed. He considered himself someone who was always changing. Half the things he believed in ten years ago were things he’d never believe now. He’d made changes to his philosophies, his ethics, his morals, religion, diet, basically everything. Even to the body and the sense of self, his top surgery scars being plenty to prove it. 

But there definitely were things that wouldn’t change. Gyro couldn’t change the past. And he couldn’t change everything that happened. Lifting up his shirt for a glance at his torso and spine, he was able to take another grimace at the physical remnants from his time under Akita’s mentoring, all faded and rarely thought about.

Gyro knew he was different than years before. And he couldn’t fault Boyd for missing how he used to be. But it wasn’t like he could go back to how he was. 

Could he?

A small computerized chime from the couch signified to him that Boyd had officially gone into sleep mode, and he sighed. It was too late, and he was too tired to think about any of this. Before he turned off the bathroom light, Gyro made one last saunter over to the couch to make a more worthy effort of tucking Boyd in, adding a second blanket. The apartment could get pretty chilly during the nights.

“Goodnight, Boyd. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Rice Pudding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Descriptions of physical abuse and some mild language.

“Do you want more coffee?”

Gyro shook his head at Fenton’s customary Monday morning offer. He tried not to think about how relieved Boyd probably was to go home earlier that day. He’d made an effort to keep the boy entertained for the remainder of the visit, but he definitely struggled. Gyro wasn’t exactly a ‘child-friendly’ individual, and he repeatedly had to stop himself from temper tantrums and swearing throughout the weekend. 

Outward cheerfulness was also something he struggled with. He tried to force a smile at things he otherwise couldn’t really care about, but it was obviously clear to Boyd that Gyro just wasn’t at the same standards of functioning from years prior.

“Cabrera? Odd, possibly pointless question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think I’m good with children?”

“Well...sure! Huey and Boyd seem to like you.”

“But do you think I’m _good_ with children. Would you trust me to raise children of my own?”

“Er...are you thinking about adoption or-?”

“Ugh, okay, forget I asked,” Gyro sighed rubbing his forehead. “Next time I build a robot, remind me not to make it something I can’t properly connect with.”

“Did something happen over the weekend?”

Gyro let out a long noise from his throat. “I suppose it came to my attention that I’m not quite the same man I was back in Tokyolk all those years ago. And that may not be a good thing.”

Fenton frowned, looking into the contents of his own cup. “Well...it’s normal that people change over time.”

“I didn’t change a little. I’m almost nothing like who I was when I was mentored by Akita. I was naive...innocent...idealistic. I’d be a fool to try and be just like that...but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it.”

The duck shuffled his feet as he tried to come up with an answer. Gyro beat him to ending the silence.

“It would at least let Boyd look up to me again.”

“He already does though.”

“Cabrera, you should have seen the light die from his eyes when I said I went vegetarian.”

“Oof.”

“And if I tried fudging it, I still have no idea what I’m doing. Do you know how hard it is for me to pretend to be someone I’m not anymore? I’m not an actor.”

Gyro sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, flipping through all his documents on his tablet, absently tapping around the archived codes of Boyd's programming, dragging the old core memories around the screen randomly.

Watching the scientist's distraction activity gave Fenton an idea bright enough to spark a smile. "Maybe Boyd can help you."

"His idea of help would be to give me collective amnesia. I don't think-"

"No, no, I mean, he has all memories archived in his programming right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, why don't you go through all his old memories of you and see what you two did together that made him happy?"

The inventor gasped. "Why, that could be months worth of excess footage! I'd have to have Boyd in full-on sleep mode to access all of it. And even then I hardly know what exactly he saw."

"You could scrub through it and just find everything involving you. Like trips to the park, playtime...everything he misses!"

Gyro rubbed his chin. “I suppose that would make for a good bonding activity during his next visit. And an excuse to put off this blasted machine Scrooge wants me to make.” He glanced at the ego splitter on the workbench.

"Great! I'll make sure to back-up all of it in case you need references for anything later on."

"Not sure that's necessary but okay."

* * *

“It took like three chapters of Jules Tern, but I finally got him to shut off,” Gyro sighed as he stood over the beat-up couch in the lab.

“Hopefully he stays asleep long enough for us to get those memories, right?” Fenton handed him the mess of cables from the desk, watching as Gyro plugged them into the back of Boyd’s head. 

“Oh! Once we start the system, he’ll be in sleep-mode until we unplug him,” Gyro assured, giving an awkward pat to the top of Boyd’s head.

“How come we’ve never seen these memories?” Huey asked.

“These weren’t core memories. They didn’t involve changes or alterations to his programming. Thus they just ended up in a stockpile of data that could be backed up to some other drive if one desired. Lucky for me, Boyd’s got plenty of storage space in his drive for all the memories he’s had since creation,” Gyro explained, surfing through wall after wall of code. “Aha!” He smiled, finding the file. “And here is where all his memories are stored, as recent as of today!”

As an example, Gyro clicked on a memory from that morning. The three watched through Boyd’s eyes as he stared up at Gyro’s apartment ceiling, then over the back end of the couch. The boy walked over to the bathroom door where there was the smallest crack, and he had peered through, watching as Gyro scatted badly to jazz music in a steamy shower, using the showerhead as a microphone.

Gyro quickly ended the memory, hiding his embarrassment from a very amused Fenton and Huey. “I’ll have to remind Boyd about privacy.”

He then began to search for the earliest memories, trying to base them off the thumbnails and if they included him. 

“Alright this one seems like a good start.”

* * *

_“Happy one month, 2-BO!” Gyro smiled as he held up a tiny cupcake with a candle in it. “I know you can’t eat actual food yet, but it’s the thought that counts right?”_

_“I love it!” the child could be heard, reaching for the cupcake. “It’s so pretty. Where did you find it?”_

_“I made it of course!” Gyro rubbed the back of his head. “I hoped that if someday you could eat food, you’d be able to try it.”_

_“I’m sure it tastes great!”_ _  
_

* * *

_“Can I have the window seat?” 2-BO looked up at Gyro as he held his hand to get on the bus._

_“Of course you can!” Gyro plopped the child in front of the window, where he could see the outside and watch the cars rush by._

_“Place your bets, how many real cars vs transformers do you think we’ll see?” the chicken asked playfully._

_“10 of real, 15 of transformer,” 2-BO answered, matter-of-factly._

_“I’m betting the reverse! And what does the winner get?”_

_“If I win, you have to buy me dinner, but if you win, I buy you dinner!”_

_“Well, now where will you ever get that money?”_

_“I’ll just borrow it from you!”_

_Gyro tried not to laugh too loudly._

* * *

_“Dr. Gearloose,” the child whined, “I don’t like cucumber.”_

_“Why did you order it then?” Gyro smiled knowingly as he passed a dish of soy sauce._

_“I thought it would taste different in sushi!” 2-BO admitted, chopsticks poking at the selections on his tray._

_“Alright, alright,” the chicken sighed. “You can have some of mine and I’ll take some of yours.”_

_After several minutes of pleasant silence, the robot spoke up. “Can we trade again the next time we have sushi?”_

_“I don’t see why not.”_

* * *

_“_ _Are you sure you’re alright?” Gyro peered from a hallway, slightly deafened by the sound of rainfall. "Would you like me to stay with you?"_

_“Ah...n-no! No need!” 2-BO had answered shakily, clutching at a blanket on the couch. “A-After all, thunder is purely the sound of lightning from miles away and therefore isn’t any actual danger to-”_

_A loud crash of thunder and flashing cut the child off and with a panicked yelp, he scrambled off the couch, and into Gyro’s arms._

_“There now.” Gyro’s face was unseen but his voice was gentle. “It’s not any trouble to me.”_

_2-BO had pressed the side of his head against the chicken’s chest, eyes fluttering open and shut as he calmed himself._

_In that instant, the gentle sound of Gyro’s heartbeat had overpowered everything else._

* * *

“Awww!” Fenton squeaked at the last memory.

“You really didn’t remember any of this, Dr. Gearloose?” Huey looked up at the chicken who seemed unphased by the memories.

“It’s hard to retain memories when what follows is the worst experiences in your life, so, yes, Hubley, I did not remember any of this.”

Gyro rubbed at his chin, looking a bit conflicted. “What does confuse me is that the time I’ve spent with Boyd in the last few weeks has been, in my opinion, just as pleasant as these memories. Is there that much of a significant difference?”

“Well, you did smile a little more in the past it seems,” Fenton admitted. “I mean, not that you don’t seem happy right now or anything, but there’s something different about it.”

“I was a pushover in the past, Cabrera. If Boyd truly wants me to be a pushover again, I’m afraid he’s going to be sorely disappointed because I-”

He was interrupted by a sudden popup on the screen: **DELETED FILES RECOVERED. (Y/N)** **  
**

“Deleted-” Gyro squinted as he accessed the files. “I didn’t...did he manually remove these from his programming?”

Curiosity piqued, Gyro clicked on the first file.

* * *

_“Intern, I’m not going to tell you again. I want that weapons system finished by today, it has highest priority!”_

_“But the defense drone already has a system! He doesn’t need something this excessive. It could override his current system and-”_

_Gyro was cut off with a gasp as Akita’s hand tightly gripped his shoulder, and he was shoved against the wall, pinned in place._

_“Then I suggest you make his system better. I’m not repeating myself,” the scientist growled, face getting in close towards Gyro’s panicked expression._

_Gyro looked to 2-BO, then back to Akita. He gave a stiff nod, swallowing._

_Akita released his grip on Gyro’s shoulder, grunting as he stepped back, then grabbed an errant teacup. “You also didn’t make the tea sweet enough.”_

_“But I-”_

_A full cup of the water, hot enough to sting but not scald, splashed in the chicken’s face. A noiseless gasp of pain came from Gyro’s beak as he covered his face._

_“Not sweet enough.” Akita repeated._

_“I-I’m sorry, Dr. Akita.”_

* * *

_“_ _You have to stop bringing the drone to other field tests. We don’t need to waste his batteries being dragged around the city,” Akita criticized, glaring at 2-BO, then at Gyro, who was busy setting up targets for their artillery robot that had just been completed._

_“But if he’s going to keep the city safe, it makes sense to me that he would get a sense of what it all looks like, right?”_

_“No. There’s no need for it. Don’t be sentimental,” Akita scolded. “And hurry up setting those targets. I’m not waiting for you to get off the field.”_

_2-BO saw the eye roll Gyro gave, and evidently so did Akita, as he wordlessly began firing projectiles from the robot. Gyro screamed, ducking as he scrambled to get out of the way._

_“Keep setting up the targets,” Akita ordered, visibly amused at the terror he was causing the intern._

_Gyro jammed the last two targets in the ground, barely two inches away as one of them was blasted by an explosive, sending him rolling several feet away. After a few seconds of stillness, he shakily got up, trying to scramble and limp across the field, his shirt torn and glasses broken._

_“Have to be quicker than that, intern!” Akita laughed._

* * *

_“N-Now Dr. Akita, I know this looks bad but I was really just-”_

_A harsh shove against the wall. “No. You disobeyed orders. MY orders! I told you to keep it in the lab. And you tried taking it back to your home again!”_

_“But he wasn’t ready for a test like that! I had to-”_

_Another shove._

_“I will decide when the drone is ready for testing, and if that means he risks damage, then so be it!”_

_He shoved Gyro again when the chicken tried to get around him, hand pinning his neck against the wall, leaving the chicken’s glasses to fall off his face._

_“I’ve had enough of you carrying that drone around like some sort of doll, coddling it….it’s just a machine-”_

_“N-No, he’s not! He’s a definitely real boy!” Gyro managed to choke out, trying to escape and head in the direction of where 2-BO was sitting._

_Out of nowhere, Akita suddenly had a stun baton. The one he’d personally modified for higher destructive purpose. As soon as it sparked to life so did the terror in Gyro’s eyes._

_“2-BO, get out of he-”_

_Gyro’s panicked plea was cut off by an agonized scream as high voltage suddenly coursed through his body, electricity squirming around him in snakes._

_“Dr. Gearloose!” a familiar voice wailed._

* * *

“Huey look away,” Fenton ordered, stress audible in his voice as he ushered the duckling away from the screen. 

Gyro made no move to turn off the footage, gripping at his side faintly with one of his folded arms.

* * *

_“I warned you about getting too attached,” Akita growled as he kept the baton jammed against Gyro’s torso, making no moves to take it away as he continued to electrocute the chicken. “If you’re going to learn, it will have to be the hard way.”_

_“PLE-ASE STOP-” Gyro cried out, body convulsing in pain. “DR. AKITA, PLEASE!”_

_“I don’t want you to ever defy my orders again, intern.” The scientist smiled cruelly, electricity reflected off his glasses._

_“I-” Gyro croaked out as he suddenly crumpled to the floor, Akita backing away._

_He didn’t move, not for several seconds, not for even a minute. His bright green shirt had dark scorch marks dappled around it, almost completely incinerated where the baton had been, the feathers underneath unrecognizable._

_“Shit,” Akita hissed, stomping out of the lab. As soon as the doors slammed behind him, 2-BO had gotten up from his charging port, running over to the motionless body._

_“Dr. Gearloose!” the android cried out. “Dr. Gearloose, please wake up! Please!”_

* * *

Even as the footage cut to black, the tiny, helpless sobs of 2-BO persisted for almost half a minute.

Fenton had to hold back the urge to be sick, focusing his effort on keeping Huey’s eyes against his side. Not that Huey was watching anyway, more invested in plugging his ears from the horrific screams that came from the computer.

And yet Gyro still watched. And Boyd still slept. One more piece of footage.

* * *

_The warm colors of the hospital room in Tokyolk were blurry in the optic cameras 2-BO owned, and it took several heavy blinks for him to get his senses back. His tiny grey arm sprawled across the flowered hospital blanket, right over Gyro’s torso. His hand gripped at the blanket gently. A larger hand slowly and weakly reached over and onto his own, rubbing it comfortingly._

_“Dr. Gearloose,” 2-BO almost sobbed, shifting as he hugged the now conscious scientist, arms wrapping around him._

_“Are you alright?” Gyro croaked tiredly, sitting up as he still held the android._

_“You’re hurt,” 2-BO whimpered as he caught sight of the bandages wrapped around the other’s torso._

_“It probably looks worse than it feels,” the chicken’s weary smile came into view. It dropped as the sound of heavy boots came towards the door._

_2-BO had shut his eyes to fake unconsciousness, but the noise came all the way to the bed. There was a long uncomfortable silence. Gyro’s heartbeat audibly quickened._

_“If any nurses ask, it was a lab accident. Understood?”_

_“...Yes, Dr. Akita.”_

_More silence._

_“I’ll take your pudding. Whoosh.”_

_The footsteps exited the room, and 2-BO opened his eyes again. He then had noticed the tray of hospital lunch on a bedside table, full to the brim except for a pudding._

_“I wanted the pudding,” the child whimpered._

_“It’s okay. I’ll ask for another,” Gyro assured, rocking 2-BO. “Get some more rest okay?”_

_“Okay…”_

_A long pause._

_“Thank you daddy.”_

* * *

All the footage exhausted, suddenly Gyro snapped out of his stillness and was silently pressing various buttons and clicking to erase the footage.

“Dr. Gearloose?” Fenton spoke up, nervous.

No answer.

“Gyro?”

“Get out. Both of you. I have things to do.”

“But-”

“ _Get out._ ”

When Boyd woke up minutes later, the lab was quiet, Fenton and Huey were gone, and Dr. Gearloose was by the window, staring, unblinking, into the sea.


	3. Black Coffee Cola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: Some discussions of past character death, and discussion of abuse.

“But how do we even know he’ll come into work?” Huey whispered as he kept his eye on the elevator.

“Gyro’s never missed a day of work. Not even the day he was hit by a school bus.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fenton whispered. “He settled it with the city.”

After a long silence, the shrill ‘ding’ of the elevator signaled Gyro’s arrival, the elevator doors opening. 

“Morning!” Gyro chirped, whistling as he slung his coat over his shoulder, and sauntered over to the coat rack. He then grabbed for a coffee mug off the communal pegboard.

“Blonde roast this time. Excellent choice.” Gyro gave a nod to Fenton.

Fenton and Huey stared at each other, visibly shaken at the chicken’s mannerisms. Now, Fenton was used to Gyro complimenting his coffee, but more in a ‘this is the only reason I haven’t fired you’ way. The fact this compliment was genuine wasn’t half as bewildering as the other anomaly.

Gyro was _smiling._

The inventor only smiled for two things, in Fenton’s experience: Lil Bulb and the possibility that Mark Beaks was dead. And with Bulb nowhere to be seen, Fenton was not too ready to believe that the social media mogul was found submerged in a pool of jello mid-dive.

“So uh...how’s your morning Gyro?”

“Oh it’s as good as it could be! Thank you for asking, Cabrera!”  
  
Gyro patted the duck’s shoulder as he walked past him to his desk, getting right to work on the ego splitter. Fenton and Huey watched him work for a couple minutes in uncomfortable silence.

“So ah...where’s Boyd, Dr. Gearloose?”

“Oh, he’s with his parents today. I decided I have too much to do today to dedicate the proper amount of time with him that he truly deserves! But if I complete this project before the weekend, then I have more quality time to spend with him. Isn’t that wonderful?” Gyro smiled.

“Fenton, he’s scaring me,” Huey whimpered.

“It’s okay, just don’t make eye contact,” Fenton whispered, nudging the duckling towards the stairwell, then slowly and carefully approached Gyro, worried he might actually be rigged with some sort of explosive. “Ah...Dr. Gearloose....are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m doing alright, thank you for asking.” Gyro nodded, still smiling as he looked between Fenton and the machine he was handling.

“Well...I was asking because of yesterday,” the duck rubbed the back of his neck. “I was worried about you after you saw all of Boyd’s old memories and-”

“Oh bahababa thaaaat? That’s all gone and in the past! I hardly let things from _years ago_ affect my work in the present. When has science ever progressed from dwelling on the past?”

“Um...it kind of does that all the time...” Fenton furrowed his brow. “Did you see if Boyd was okay?”

“He’s fine! He has no way of remembering any of what was deleted. It’s all gone. History! Nothing else to say.” Gyro shrugged, smile frozen. “Was there anything else you needed, Cabrera?”

“Er...I suppose not,” Fenton sighed. “How’s the...what is it again?”

“Ego splitter!” Gyro exclaimed, finger in the air. “It’s made to dissect the singular, coherent personalities of individuals and split them into their own separate identities! For this stage of development, it will be tested on gnats and flies. But if you ask me, I don’t know how they can have any thoughts and personalities beyond flying around and going ‘buzz buzz’ all day!” He laughed hysterically at his own joke, slapping the table.

“I guess I’ll let you get back to that then...” Fenton smiled nervously.

“Thank you!” Gyro cheerfully sang.

This was getting creepy. Either Gyro had replaced his brain with one of the Junior Woodchucks, or he was one mistake away from creating a death ray to use on the city. Fenton didn’t like either possibility. But he knew pushing Gyro further would likely make things worse, so he opted to try and get back to his own work. Before he started, he looked to Manny, who was busy reading some horse tabloid.

He tapped a quiet message. _“I’m really worried right now”_

Manny tapped back, _“Don’t worry, I already checked. He doesn’t have a gun.”_

Fenton gave a bewildered glance to Manny, then shook his head.

After a few hours of incessant humming from Gyro, Fenton had tried to accept this as the new (hopefully temporary) normal and zoned out from thinking about it too much as he worked on his own projects. The alert system on the Gizmoduck armor hadn’t gone off all day, and he was sort of hoping for at least one call to get him out of the lab before Gyro had an imminent breakdown. 

He’d been nose deep in a project when a sudden hysterical shriek caught his ear and before he could say anything, he watched as the massive machine Gyro was working on zapped its inventor, making his feathers stand on end and the all the lights in the lab shut off with a ‘pop.’ As soon as Fenton could scramble to the fuse box, he switched everything back on and rushed over to where Gyro was sitting, dazed and disheveled.

“Ohmigosh, Gyro are you alright? How many fingers am I holding up?!”

Gyro blinked, looking up at Fenton and stuttered out, a nervous laugh. “I-I was trying to stop Lil Bulb from playing with the wires on this thing, and it just gave me a big ol’ shock. Isn’t that just a funny coincidence?”

Fenton was doing a visual overlook of Gyro’s condition, seeing his glasses were askew, and he smelled slightly burnt. In the chaos, Gyro’s shirt had become untucked from his pants and had hiked up on his torso, and Fenton’s spine chilled as he saw the undeniably blotchy pink mass of scar tissue that only could come from an electrical burn.

“Oh god, did the machine do that?”

Gyro looked at where Fenton was staring and his dazed smile dropped immediately, and he shook his head, staring at the marks. “N-No...that’s old. That’s very old.”

Without anything else being said, Fenton seemed to understand, and he stepped back, stomach tying in knots.

“I...I think I better go home for the rest of the day.” Gyro shakily nodded to his co-worker as he got up, wobbles in every step he took as he booked it for the elevator. “Can you forward me a copy of the workplace injury report? I haven’t used it in so long that I don’t even know if it’s the same form!” he spat out, voice still distant.

“Do you need help getting home?”

“No!” Gyro assured, voice pitched. “I can take the bus! Just make sure I get that form before 5 o clock! Thank you, Cabrera!”

As the elevator doors shut behind Gyro, Fenton could sense deep in the pit of his stomach that Gyro needed help, and it wasn’t something Gizmoduck could fix.

Once he’d scrambled inside his apartment and double-locked the door, Gyro slid against the wall, heaving as he tried to get himself together. His cat, Tungsten, approached him and sniffed curiously, but as soon as Gyro made a move to touch him, panicked and bolted into a corner. After a few long breaths, Gyro finally got up, stumbling for the bathroom. Everything hurt, and the only thing to distract from the burn of his joints would be the lesser burn of a shower.

As the hot water pelted him, Gyro stood in place, clinging to himself as he tried to regain the false sense of security he had that morning. He’d maintained it for a short while, and he hoped if he kept it up, he’d start actually believing that things were fine. Things were fine.

Things were fine.

Things were _not_ fine.

Gyro thought he could come to terms with the fact that he’d changed from the past, but he realized just how fucked up and unfair it all was knowing he hadn’t had to change the way they did, but it was out of his control. It wasn’t his fault. And here he was, letting Akita win. Letting all the lies, the torture, the manipulation win.

His eyes felt red and puffy when he exited the shower. Gyro didn’t know if that meant he’d cried or not, but it wasn’t something he cared about particularly at this moment. His fingers traced over the scarred mapping on his torso as he dried himself. He never cared about it until now, realizing how many times when he undressed for a lover, some would glance a long while at his body, at that area. He didn’t like to get that close to people for that reason.

Climbing into bed, he stared at the ceiling as the purple-orange glow of sunset tinted it, and he counted every grain in the tiles until he fell asleep.

* * *

Somehow when he woke, he knew he was in a dream. It wasn’t anything trippy or surrealistic even. It was just that his nightstand table was the wrong height, and the curtains were the same ones from back in his father’s home, orange with white and yellow flowers. 

Even so, in a dream, Gyro figured it was best to get up and start his fictional day. Grabbing his folded clothes, it was then he noticed the normal shirt and vest he was used to were replaced with his outfit from his intern days. And his glasses had...well...he couldn’t find them and yet he could see clearly. Heading into the bathroom, Gyro took note of any anomalies in the space and saw nothing out of sorts. His toothbrush was purple instead of green but whatever. 

Gyro looked himself over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised to see his hair back to its original length. He gave a small smirk as he primped himself in the mirror.

“I gotta admit, I really do miss growing it out,” he spoke to himself.

“Oh please, it’s tacky,” the reflection suddenly spoke, spooking Gyro into stepping backward.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Would it kill you to put some hair gel in this mess? It gets absolutely everywhere when you work, and your new haircut isn’t much better. Just looks like a buzzcut with bangs.”

Gyro folded his arms, raising a brow at the rude reflection, “Well, I’ll have you know that lots of men my age find my current hairstyle quite attractive.”

“Dumpy twinks in their 30s? Yeah, no. Up your standards, for the both of us,” the reflection scoffed, rubbing a pair of dark sunglasses with his shirt. “Hand me a comb, will you?”

Without thinking much of it, Gyro passed his comb to the mirror. It suddenly was in the hand of the other, who mussed his hair up with some gel until it was spiked and slightly unkempt.

“That looks ghastly.” Gyro shook his head.

“Thanks! I try.” The reflection winked, smirking flirtatiously. 

“Who are you anyway?” Gyro folded his arms, realizing that his reflection was seemingly not meant to be a complete clone.

“I’m you. Well, the better part of you,” the other said with a shrug, tilting the glasses down to reveal bright green eyes. “The part you’ve really been skimping on.”

“Alright, so this dream is getting to be a bit too self referential for me, so I think I’m going to lay back in bed and hope for myself to actually wake up,” Gyro dismissed himself.

“Wait a minute here, friend.” The odd incarnate held a hand out of the mirror to stop him. “What about a cup of coffee before you go? Or at least go get me one?”

Gyro gave a long sigh. “Alright fine. Dream coffee is still coffee.”

“Minus the indigestion,” the other chimed in as Gyro exited the bathroom.

The kitchen was probably the most off out of everything in the dream. It wasn’t the apartment’s layout, rather the one Gyro remembered from childhood, with the green tile backsplash and the over-the-stove cupboards with porcelain handles that had painted blue flowers. 

“I’ve only got instant,” Gyro sighed as he rooted through the cupboard, “is that fine?”

“No sugar or cream, please,” the mirror-being requested, suddenly at the kitchen table. The black sweater and black jeans he wore weren’t quite Gyro’s cup of tea, and neither was the mulberry jacket, but it certainly made the dream more interesting.

Gyro took another look at him. “Since when do I dye my hair pink?”

“You don’t, but I do. You, unfortunately, don’t have the confidence to pull it off.”

“I can’t say that I like it. It seems like a very tasteless hair color.”

“You’re not exactly the master of taste yourself, hon.”

“I like to think I’m rather trendy.”

“Mmm. No."

The room was quiet as Gyro served the coffee, and they drank it together. Gyro was pretty sure his turned into hot chocolate after one sip, the same he remembered as a child.

“So, just to shoot a question, this wouldn’t happen to be related to me getting zapped by that ego splitter would it?” Gyro asked the other.

He sipped his coffee, smiling. “Yeah. Kind of.”

“Right then,” Gyro sighed, taking another swallow of the coffee...cocoa...whatever it was that seemed to be changing with every sip.

The split ego glanced around the old kitchen. “You really should remodel.”

“Oh, this isn’t my real kitchen. It’s the one from my childhood house in Lodhyal.”

“Lord.” The ego nodded slowly in thought. “Be glad you’re not stuck there.”

“I dunno,” Gyro said, sipping again, “I like to think I had a nice childhood. Dad kept the house warm, the bills paid and me from starving. And all on his own.”

Gyro glanced to the living room, happy to see the old pilly chair he remembered reading for hours in as a child, the cross-stitched blanket from a relative draped over it.

“Still sucks that Sonia never came back.”

“I don’t think she was fit to be a mother,” Gyro sighed. “I didn’t see much of her when she came around, and I’m pretty sure the most I saw of her was before I was three. I was just happy that Dad was able to meet Barb before those last years. She took good care of him. And me, on top of her own kid.”

“You keep in contact with them?”

“I call. Maybe about five times a year. They’re both doing alright. Sarah says I need to come back and visit sometime so I can meet my step-nephew.”

There was some silence as the ego looked at the old memory of a chair.

“Do you think things would have been different if Dad were still here?”

“I don’t know...maybe? But I feel like I was pretty well-adjusted when I went to Tokyolk. I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t feel good about it.” Gyro stirred his coffee. “Honestly, it was sort of a relief when he passed. He’d been sick for a long time, almost seven years. It hurt to see him struggling so much in that last couple of months. Barb and I took turns helping him get up and down the stairs until he was too tired to move anymore.”

He took a long sip. “I was just glad he got to see me graduate. And I was glad I got to be there that summer with him at the end...hold his hand and say everything we wanted to each other? It was actually kind of... _beautiful_ in some really weird way? Being a philosophy teacher and all, he was huge on different religions and theologies about the afterlife. He got really into Ram Dass’ teachings, and the idea of reincarnation...like for him it wouldn’t be a goodbye more as of a see-you-later. So when he was gone, it was sad but also sort of like ‘huh I wonder where he’s headed to next’.”

Gyro hadn’t noticed the wetness that formed on the rim of his eyelids, but the other obviously did, gently putting a gloved hand on his with a pat. 

“I don’t talk about this much with people.”

“Of course not. People would get really weird if you told them you thought watching your dad die was beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Gyro laughed. “I think it would be even weirder if I disclosed it while building a death ray.”

“Has that ever happened?”

“Maybe.”

Gyro noticed his cup was finally empty. “Maybe that’s why I was so easy to get lured in by Akita. When I first met him, he kind of reminded me of my dad.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“No...he really did. He was so goofy and leisurely with everything and always talked about having kids around my age...don’t know if that was true or not, but I didn’t get the nightmarish side of him until it came to building the defense drone.”

“No red flags?”

“Not that I really can remember. But maybe I was just too used to him that I took whatever he said or did as normal...” Gyro rubbed at his torso. “If I’d known he’d do what he did to me and Boyd, I never would have taken that internship. I’d likely still be back in Lodhyal working on cars or computers, but I wouldn’t be as fucked up as I am now.”

“You know it isn’t your fault. None of this is.”

“Of course. It’s all Akita. Everything was because of him.”

Gyro got up, walking over to the childhood home/apartment living room hybrid his mind had created and looked out the window. Tokyolk was right outside.

“And lord knows I’m trying to keep it together for Boyd. For Mr. McDuck. For myself, but...I don’t think I can actually get around this or just erase it from my head like Boyd can. I’ve tried, certainly, but there’s always gonna be reminders.” His fingers traced over the electrical burn. “He got to hide from all the damage he did and never had to really suffer for any of it. He had me thinking for years that I was well-adjusted by how I followed his example with my intern, and now, I’m constantly trying to make up for it.”

“You never tased or hit your intern, did you?”

“No! I...I never did any of _that_ , I just….I wonder if he’s resenting me for any of what I did instead.”

“Well, you did have him work in the bathroom for a while. That’s not exactly something people have fond memories of.”

Gyro groaned. “You’re right. And I was stupid to think that was normal!” He kicked at a yarn ball on the floor. “I should be happy that I realized I was in a toxic cycle and broke it, but what if it’s not enough?”

He sighed, sitting on the hideous orange couch that Fulton Gearloose cherished enough to decide it’s where his soul would travel to its next vessel in the complex web of the universe. Gyro really hoped his dad hadn’t come back as a gnat.

“Here’s what I propose,” the ego spoke as he stood up, walking over to Gyro, “why don’t you let me have a shot at this brain for a while? You’ve done what you can to make things normal. You should take a vacation. Let me in the cockpit.”

“...Are you saying you want to possess my body?”

“It's our body, really. I’ve always been a part of you! You just never realized it because you’re so good at repressing stuff until you get ulcers.”

Gyro looked at the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Look, everything you’ve done for yourself? It isn’t going to make you normal. And you know why? Because you haven’t been given what you are owed: justice.” He sat next to Gyro, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Akita abused _us_. He hurt us, he hurt Boyd, he was going to hurt your friends and a whole flippin’ city!”

“And now, he’s sitting in prison comfortably and is never going to face the same pain we did.”

The ego’s hand rubbed along the couch. “And if Akita was really like your dad, wouldn’t he hope to have some sort of peaceful reincarnation that negates all of what he did?”

Gyro rubbed at his knee. The joint was getting sore again. A sign he was about to wake up.

“Do you really know how to make this normal?” He looked to his ego, trusting.

“I’ll prove it.” He smirked and snapped his fingers, causing everything to go black.

* * *

When he woke, the ego had to adjust himself to everything, realizing that ultimately the dreamscape hadn’t been as realistic as he hoped, nearly stumbling to the floor when he got out of bed. He took a long look in the bathroom mirror. He smirked, green eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

“Alright then, Gyro.” He adjusted his wild hair. “Time to get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a huge hobby of creating bird puns for different things in the real world to make them Ducktales related. So I made Gyro's childhood hometown, Lodhyal, a reference to Lodi (a town in California, AND a great old rock song) and a Dhyal Thrush.
> 
> And yes. Ram Dass...in this universe...is an actual ram.
> 
> And yes...this ego of Gyro's is meant to be an incarnation of the Mad Ducktor from the comics, but not quite. ;)


	4. Canteen Meal

Della tried to set a rule in the manor that anytime before 11 o’clock in the morning, Launchpad was absolutely not allowed to come to her with news beyond ‘the sky is blue.’ With his track record, the ‘news’ was often that he’d crashed a plane or a car or one of her children was missing on their own volition. But since Launchpad was like one of her boys, albeit bigger and more airheaded, she couldn’t expect that rule to be followed constantly.

“LP,” she cut him off when he approached her at 10:55, mouth open to speak, “is what you’re about to say related to you crashing anything?”

“Nope.”

“Is it anything related to my boys being in any sort of danger or trouble?”

“Nope.”

“Is anyone sick or dying?”

“I’ve got a really itchy bill but-”

“Alright, what is your news?” she sighed, folding her arms and looking at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to say we should throw a congratulations party for Gyro!”

“Oh? Did he stop being a huge know-it-all who smells like falafel?”

“Nah! He got his pilot license!”

“...Come again?”

“He came into the hangar and told me about how he got his license just this morning, and he was all gussied up to go for his first real flight.”

“Launchpad, Gyro can’t  _ have _ a pilot license because his eyesight is compromised. Where did he go?”

“Dunno! Said he was gonna take the Suncha- I mean, the Cloudslayer, out for a ride.”

Della’s eye twitched in building, boiling rage.   


“Hey, I corrected myself on the name that time,” Launchpad reasoned.

She nearly burned a hole in the clock, stopping it at 10:59.

“I am going to  _ murder _ Gyro Gearloose.”

“Aww don’t do that! We have to throw him his party first!”

* * *

“Alright, judging by the tracking device in the plane, he’s taking it directly to Tokyolk.” Huey held the handheld device up as he sat on Boyd’s back as they soared through the air.

“We were there a month ago!” Fenton exclaimed, dropping the Gizmoduck voice as he flew beside them.

“Nogoodchickenstealingmyplaneandwastingthefuelandthemileageforgodknowswhat-” Della muttered murderously under her breath as she sat on Gizmoduck’s back.

“Is Dr. Gearloose okay?” Boyd asked the adults worriedly.

“Oh no, honey,” Della shook her head. “He’s definitely not okay because the minute I see him he is going to die.”

“SHE’S JUST KIDDING,” Fenton immediately cut her off, hissing in pig-latin, “Ont-day anic-pay the obot-ray ild-chay!”

“Hey cool, I’ve been meaning to speak Greek.” Della smiled, impressed.

“I guess the only question we can ask is where in Tokyolk he’s going,” Huey piped up.

Fenton frowned. “And  _ why _ .”

* * *

Inspector Tezuka was quick to respond to the security breach alert at Quakamatsu Prison. It almost seemed too coincidental that such a thing would happen in the short time of Dr. Akita being contained there. If she had to place her bets, he was already attempting to escape.

And it almost seemed obvious as when she arrived, the guards at the front entrance were incapacitated by nets and tape and frantically trying to break free but otherwise unharmed. But as she looked over all the monitors and cameras, Akita had not made any attempts to leave his cell. In fact, he didn’t look like he was planning any sort of escape at all. 

Brows furrowing, Tezuka tried to make sense of it when she suddenly saw a figure bolting through the hall, heading straight for the max security wing where Akita was being held. Not even checking to see who it was, she hurried through the facility.

Gyro’s new personality had found it sort of amusing at how easy it was to get through the law enforcement when he neglected to actually care about getting caught. “No idea why he never did this sooner,” he mused. “This is easier than I thought.”

Lil Bulb had been tucked in his waistcoat pocket this whole time and realizing that things were definitely getting too risky, even for him, climbed up onto his master’s shoulder, wordlessly trying to discourage him with a scowl.

“Oh don’t be a worrywart. We’ll be thanked for this later,” the chicken scoffed, busting the padlock to the doors and grinning as they opened wide. Before he could victory-dance himself inside, the cock of a gun from behind caught him off guard.

“Not another step, Gearloose,” Tezuka growled, glaring him down. “I thought you’d finally gotten your head on straight and knew not to come back.”

“Ahhh, Tezuka!” He waved. “I take it you work night shifts too! Is that a promotion or a demotion for your line of work?”

“What are you doing here? Helping Akita?”

“Oh, I’m doing quite the opposite.” He flicked his sunglasses down, staring her down with his bright green eyes that virtually glowed in the dark.

She faltered in confusion. “You’re...not Gearloose…who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know the technicalities of it much myself anymore,” he said with a shrug, “but all the same, I’m working as an advocate of justice on Gyro’s behalf and doing what a prison wall couldn’t: making Akita pay.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” she insisted, deciding this was either some absolute madman stranger or that Gearloose was mentally unwell. “Leave and we’ll pretend this didn’t happ- AH!”

Tezuka was caught off guard by the net the intruder fired, suddenly bound to the floor. He stepped over to her, smiling apologetically but smug. “You’ll have to forgive me for this, but I’m very set on making sure Akita sees what’s coming for him, and if it has to be outside of your jurisdiction, then so be it. Try not to be too mad at Gyro about it though. This was all my idea.”

She didn’t respond, trying to get herself free with difficulty. The scientist hummed in thought, then reached down to her utility belt, grabbing the taser.

“I’ll be borrowing this. Apologies if I’ve modified it upon return.”

* * *

Akita, unaware of the break-in, had only been hearing the muffled booms and pops of walls and locks being busted. He merely assumed they were the blasts of far-off fireworks in the city, sounds he’d gotten used to in his time underground. He tried to see his cell as something no different than his hidden lab, but it was a pretty massive downgrade. No snacks, no electronic devices, and his age was already catching up with him within the month, sprouting more than a few gray hairs turned white, and his eyesight had rapidly deteriorated after twenty years of isolation in the dark. 

The sound of heavy footsteps coming in his direction wasn’t of any concern to him either, guards always patrolling the wing. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.

“Thum-thum-thum-thum,” he spoke along to the footsteps, voice trailing off as he saw a figure standing right in front of his cell.

He squinted to get a clearer picture. And for a second, he caught it.

“Intern?”

The chicken was giving a long look-over at his former mentor. He removed his sunglasses, tucking them in his coat pocket.

“Wow,” he mumbled, “you actually look terrible. You’ve aged like ten years in a month.”

“You really don’t have to tell me,” the inmate sighed. “Why are you dressed like that? Is it your costume? You’re a superhero, right?”

“No.”

“Why are you here? To laugh in my face?”

“Oh, I wish I was here for that.”

Akita got up, wincing and groaning as his back ached. “I have received no visitors since arriving here. I tried to contact my children. They want nothing to do with me.”

“I mean, I can’t blame them.”

“...I was not a bad father. I was very good.”

The intruder picked at his teeth with a finger. “And what makes you so sure you were ‘very good’?”

“I raised them to adulthood and they went to very good schools. Much like you.”

“Mmm.” Gyro’s alter ego gave a halfhearted nod. “Well, I suppose that’s enough small talk. Onto business.”

He applied a device to the padlock on the cell, frying it to inactivity.

Akita’s eyes widened. “You are letting me free?”

The cell door collapsed. 

“Oh no.” The chicken smiled wickedly, stepping forward and staring right into Akita’s face. “I’m doing the exact opposite.”

As soon as the prisoner caught sight of the vengeful green eyes staring into his soul, his blood ran cold.

“Eh…?”   
  
“And I’m just gonna say it now,” the former intern laughed as he slipped on a set of brass knuckles, “you’re gonna wish I _ had _ come here to laugh at you.”

Before Akita could answer, a fist flying at his face sent his world into darkness.

* * *

“Oh my god, my baby! Mw-ah! Mw-ah! Mw-ah!" Della kissed the side of the Cloudslayer in relief, checking it all over for scratches or damage that Gyro could have caused to it.

“Any sign of him?” Huey called up to the cockpit where Gizmoduck was searching for Gyro.

“None at all,” the armored duck sighed. “This doesn’t make any sense! Where could he be?”

“I think I can answer that.” An approaching voice sternly cut in. Tezuka glared at the newcomers. “I’d be asking you to leave, but I need you to explain this.” She held up a tablet, showing security footage of the prison where the intruder had broken in.

Huey squinted. “Is that-”

“Dr. Gearloose?” Boyd gasped.

“I wasn’t sure at first.” Tezuka shook her head, rubbing between her eyes. “But whoever he is, he compromised security at Quakamatsu Prison and kidnapped Akita, going off to who knows where.”

“Wait, kidnapped?”

“I thought he was trying to help him escape but it doesn’t seem that way.” The detective glared at the footage. “He said something about making Akita pay.”

Gizmoduck groaned. “Oh no, Dr. Gearloose...”

Boyd frowned at the culprit on the screen. “That doesn’t look like Dr. Gearloose. I mean...he looks like him, but he’s not acting like him…”

“Maybe he has some secret supervillain ego he’s hiding,” Della quipped sarcastically as she climbed into the plane cockpit to kick back and wait for the mystery to end.

“Ego…” Gizmoduck echoed, then whispered. “Oh no. That’s not him.”

“That’s what I was saying!” Boyd frowned.

“No I mean- the other day, Dr. Gearloose accidentally zapped himself with the ego splitter machine he was working on. It must have scrambled his brain and he thinks he’s someone else right now!”

“Like who?” Tezuka frowned.

“I don’t know! But that’s definitely not him doing all of this! Tezuka, you can’t hold him accountable for any of this, believe me.”

“Well, if Akita ends up dead at his hands, I have to.”

Fenton groaned in fear. “We have to find him before he makes a huge mistake!”   


“He already did by breaking into the prison,” Tezuka sighed, “but if you can stop him from doing anything else, I’ll just make sure he’s banned for life from Tokyolk.”

“But-”

“That’s as good as we’re gonna get!” Huey cut Gizmoduck off. “Now let’s hurry and find him!”

Immediately there was chatter from the three as they argued over where to search first, a big debate over searching the docks becoming very prevalent.

As everyone argued, Boyd stood in silence, staring out at the city, not using any of his robot features but rather...just thinking. Thinking on his own memories of Dr. Gearloose and Akita and this city itself. He blinked in realization.

“I know where he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Git 'um   
> (:<


	5. Sea Salt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: Description of physical violence (warranted or not, figured its best to warn!)

_ “So uh...how’s it going out there?” Gyro rubbed his arm as he faced his alter ego. _

_ “Oh, so far so good. You takin’ it easy in here?” The other smiled easily as he visited the scientist, sat in a dark blissful void. _

_ “Uh...yeah. I do sort of wish I knew what was going on though.” _

_ “Justice. That’s what.” _

* * *

Akita woke with a throbbing pain in his head, sight cloudy to the point he could only see blurred shapes of color, all dark and tinged green. He felt around for his glasses but was stopped by a voice.

“Welcome home, Doctor. This place seem familiar?”

The elderly scientist was trying to get a clear sight of everything without his glasses, but being near blind at this stage, it was virtually impossible.

“Wh-where? I can’t see-”

“Oh, of all the pitiful-”

Suddenly getting his glasses shoved onto his face, he was suddenly staring at who he assumed was Gyro, if not for the malicious green eyes glowering at him in the dark.

“Now can you see enough?” the chicken asked sharply.

“What am I doing here? Why did you take me here?” he asked, suddenly feeling very unsafe in his own quarters.

“See,” the kidnapper began, circling in slow deliberate steps around him, “this was where you spent years using Gyro to the point of breaking, sabotaging his work, belittling him and on top of all that...planning world destruction? And what did you get in return? The safety of seclusion and the privilege of comfort in a prison.”

Akita watched him grab for various gadgets on a table, then a picture frame. The picture suddenly was in front of his face.

“That simpering naive intern you had? He’s gone. He’s  _ long _ gone. And now you’re stuck with me.”

“What are you-”

“You really thought,” the chicken laughed, bewildered, “that you would be able to die of old age in a prison cell and not face any sort of real retribution. You really thought that? Oh Akita, you’ve gotta be senile.”

“I’m not-”

“And I sort of wish you actually were because then maybe I’d feel a little more sorry for you!” Gyro’s ego clapped his hands once. “But right now, no amount of feebleness or frailty is gonna save you here. Because you  _ are _ gonna face what you’ve done. Every single thing. Right here. Right now.”

Akita’s face blanched in terror as the chicken turned on a projectile robot.

The ego smiled.

“So let’s begin, shall we?”

* * *

_ The void Gyro sat in was starting to get a little boring. Time didn’t exactly seem to be going that fast in here. _

_ “Hey, got anything for entertainment in here?” he called out to his ego in action. _

_ Instead of an answer, he suddenly saw a tiny figure emerge from the dark and greet him. “Dr. Gearloose?” _

_ And suddenly, Gyro felt like he was in a memory. And he had no other role in it than to relive it. _

_ “Ah, 2-BO! Good to see you!” He smiled. “Did you like the present I left by your charging port?” _

_ 2-BO held up the stuffed bear as he hurried over. “I love it, thank you ever so much! But won’t Dr. Akita be mad if he sees me with it?” _

_ “Oh don’t worry,” Gyro said, holding his arms out to scoop the android up. He hugged him before sitting back down on the void floor, letting 2-BO sit atop his lap. “I told him it was a security camera.” _

_ “That’s smart,” 2-BO chirped, happy to be part of a hug while also hugging his bear. _

_ “It’s not really a camera though,” Gyro winked. _

_ “Oh. I guess that’s also really smart!” _

_ The chicken gave a soft chuckle, staring into the darkness and peaceful with the memory’s course so far. _

_ “What was your father like, Dr. Gearloose?” _

_ Gyro gave a soft hum. “He was very smart and very kind. And very goofy.” _

_ “Like you!” _

_ “Well I appreciate that,” the scientist sighed happily, ruffling the top of 2-BO’s head. _

* * *

Akita struggled to escape by crawling on the floor as more projectiles exploded in his direction, pelting him. 

“Set up the targets faster, intern”, the ego mimicked the dog’s words from years ago. “I’m not going to wait for you to move, intern.”

“P-Please, no more. Gyro. I’ve had enough-” the old man wheezed painfully. He’d never thought Gyro could have it in him to actually be violent, and now he knew all too well.

A heavy boot stamped on his back, pinning him to the ground again. “I’ll decide when you’ve had enough!” the chicken snarled, keeping Akita immobilized. He began to press his boot down harder, glowering. “For years I was left thinking that everything you did to me was normal and an acceptable way to treat a person. And it risked me ruining relationships in my life that I actually cared about!”

Akita winced in pain, gasping as the boot crunched down on a rib and struggling to hear what the other was saying.

“It took me months to realize and actually admit I had a great intern this whole time because he made the same choices and mistakes as me...so naturally, I believed that he was doing something wrong! And you know what? He’s not just a great intern; he’s the best intern, and he’s worth more than what you led me to believe he could be.”

When the boot lifted, Akita thought he had a chance to get up. He made it onto his feet when a fist suddenly sucker-punched him in the gut, slamming him against a table. 

“And I could go on for years and years about 2-BO, but frankly, I don’t think you’ll be alive to hear it in the next hour.” The ego gripped the dog’s shoulder in a painful vice, glaring hatefully into his eyes. “But after everything you put that little boy through- turning him into a weapon, a piece of artillery in your little war against the earth- that’s all I need to _ assure _ that you won’t be alive.”

“G-Gyro! I am sorry, I-”

“Oh, it’s far too late for sorry. And we’re nowhere near done here,” the chicken spat venomously, grabbing for Tezuka’s taser. 

“Wh-What is that?”

“Oh, just something I modified along the way.” He smirked, letting sharp white sparks sprinkle from it. “I think you’d love to be reunited with this sort of contraption, wouldn’t you?”

* * *

_ “Would your father have liked me if we met?” _

_ “Oh, definitely. He liked children.” _

_ “...I am a real boy, right?” 2-BO tilted his head up to look at him. _

_ “Definitely! Of course! You know this,” Gyro laughed softly. _

_ “I know, I just like to-” _

_ 2-BO suddenly glitched and disappeared out of Gyro’s arms as a projection of the lab glitched in and out of existence briefly. _

_ “Wh- 2-BO?!” Gyro looked around, confused to see the void glitching around him. “Where are you?! 2-BO?!” _

_ He panicked as electricity suddenly filled the darkness, and he ducked and covered his head in terror. _

* * *

Akita’s vocal cords were too worn and old to make much noise, but his mouth was agape, eyes screwed shut in pain as the makeshift stun baton’s power coursed through his body. Gyro’s ego didn’t leave it in place though. He pulled back and jabbed it in the other’s stomach, again and again.

“This-” he jabbed between words, “is for every. Single. Thing. You did to me, to 2-BO and the people of Tokyolk. And I am going to keep using this long after you’re dead to make up for every individual act you did.”

“Please!” groaned the old man. “No more!”

“Gyro, stop this please!” another voice cut in loudly.

The chicken turned around to see who addressed him and briefly recessed from his torture of Akita. “You?”

Gizmoduck, Boyd and Huey crowded in the doorway, Inspector Tezuka in the corner ready to apprehend him.

“Gyro, I know you’re not yourself right now, but you have to stop- he’s not worth this.”

“Look, you can save the self-righteous superhero mumbo jumbo for after this piece of garbage is dead and can’t hurt anyone else,” the ego snapped.

“Killing him isn’t going to solve anything...” Gizmoduck tried to advance forward.

“I know what you’ll say: if I kill him I’m just as bad as him. Great, yeah, super brave of you,” the other spat sarcastically, still holding a semi-conscious Akita up.

“No,” the duck frowned, dropping the hero voice to speak person to person, “but it’s not going to make your pain go away.”   


* * *

_ Gyro uncovered his eyes as he saw the dark void suddenly project the world outside and realized exactly what was going on. His other self was staring face to face with...who was it again? Gizmoduck? Yes, yes that’s right! And then his dear 2-BO- wait, Boyd...and Boyd’s little friend Huey. _

_ He had to admit, seeing Dr. Akita, aged to pitifulness, getting tortured, wasn’t as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be. Something about it just didn’t feel right. Especially with Boyd staring at his self, looking frightened. _

_ He tried to call out to his other self, “I think that’s enough! We really don’t have to take it this far!” _

* * *

Gyro’s other self furrowed his brow, hardly reacting as Akita managed to slip out of his grip, falling to the floor. Tezuka quickly scrambled to haul the old dog out of range of the chicken.

Gizmoduck rolled forward, gently putting a hand on the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this, okay? We’ll just go back home and pretend this never happened-”

Admittedly, Fenton should have expected that an unstable person holding a weapon might strike at any point, but he didn’t expect it from Gyro- er this other side of Gyro, and he didn’t expect the high voltage to course through the armor. Thanks to the insulation inside, it didn’t manage to reach his body close enough to do any real damage, but it made the suit fall to pieces, dropping him to the ground. Huey ran to help him, but he managed to stand up on his own, backing up to give Gyro’s body space.

“I want to pretend this never happened, don’t you understand?” The scientist charged forward angrily. “I want to pretend none of it ever happened! I just want to be normal! Why can’t anyone see that?! I want to be normal and forget, and I can’t because I’m  _ broken _ !!”

Tezuka had almost made it out of the room when a sudden projectile the chicken fired struck the wall near her and obligated her to freeze.

“He’s not going anywhere!” he snarled, glaring at Akita’s cowering figure.

“Dr. Gearloose!” Boyd suddenly stepped forward, pleading. “Please don’t do this! I know this isn’t like you!”

“Boyd, step back!” Fenton warned, seeing the stun baton still alive in Gyro’s hand.

“You’re not broken! You’re just different! And it’s okay!” Boyd continued. “I don’t care if you’re different now! You’re still important to me!”

The chicken stepped forward, voltage intense.

“You’re still my dad!”

In a sudden frozen second, the stun baton dropped to the floor.

* * *

_ Gyro stared at his other ego, who faced away from him, on their knees and staring down as he gripped the floor. Awkwardly rubbing his shoulder, he walked over, looking down at his second half. _

_ “...I think it’s over,” he sighed. _

_ “It’s never over,” the ego murmured. “It goes on forever. You know it does.” _

_ “Yeah,” Gyro sighed, finally finding where his tiny glasses went, in his pocket, and slid them on his beak, “but isn’t that just how the world works?” _

* * *

The chicken had frozen in place, gazing in a numb stupor at his feet as, slowly and carefully, Boyd approached him, touching his leg.

“It’s okay to feel angry and hurt about what happened to us,” Boyd frowned, “and it’s okay that we’re still hurting...we can’t make it go away or pretend it didn’t happen. I mean...I tried deleting the bad memories I had in my programming, and they still didn’t go away. They always come back.” He wrapped his arms around his first father’s leg. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll never be happy.”

A soft, helpless noise came from the scientist’s mouth, and he looked ready to fall forward.

“Someone catch him!” Boyd pleaded.

* * *

_ “It’s time to go back,” Gyro mumbled to the other who was still crumpled on the floor. _

_ “I…” the ego breathed, sounding panicked and exhausted, “I don’t want to go back alone. I’ll just keep being angry.” _

_ Gyro smiled reassuringly. “Then let’s go back together. We’ve spent too much time apart.” _

* * *

Fenton and Huey had both managed to stop Gyro from completely falling face forward in his catatonia, easing him onto his knees as they all held onto him. Lil Bulb hopped out of the jacket pocket, and onto his master’s shoulder. He patted the chicken’s cheek in a gentle attempt of a wake-up slap.

“I don’t know which half can hear this,” Boyd continued, arms wrapped around Gyro’s torso, head against a heartbeat, “but you’re definitely still you.”

* * *

_ Upon embracing each other, the two Gyros were one. He smiled weakly as he adjusted his larger glasses. He still hurt. He probably would for a long time. But he knew he could be happy.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And everyone waiting for him was proof of it. _

* * *

Blinking away the heavy heat from his eyes, Gyro gasped as he found himself knelt on the floor. Glancing around, he caught sight of his old lab in Tokyolk, Inspector Tezuka in the corner, brow furrowed, looking oddly relieved. Akita, dazed and battered but alive, sat in handcuffs.

Before he even acknowledged them, he realized he had more than one pair of arms around him, keeping him upright in a tight embrace. Huey, Fenton, Lil Bulb.

Boyd.

“I-” he began, trying to come up with words, “I don’t-”

Lil Bulb gently pat his cheek again.

“It’s okay.” Fenton smiled weakly. “The hugging is a just-for-today thing.”

And then, Gyro coughed out a sob.

Then he laughed. 

Then he caught his breath and sobbed again, not stopping as everyone kept their hold on him, refusing to let him go. 

He didn’t know what it was, the ugly sobbing or the immobilizing hugs, but for the first time in months, his body wasn’t hurting as much. Nobody made a move to let him go, not after five minutes. Not after ten.

But after eleven and a half, Tezuka had put Akita in a squad car and stepped forward, sounding oddly sympathetic to the group.

“You should leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This warrants something of an epilogue doesn't it? ;)


	6. Cafe Biscuit Epilogue

“Do you have to do that every time?” Fenton snorted as he crawled from the driver’s seat to passenger, amused at how Gyro had circled the car like a shark with a judgmental eye when he came outside.

“It’s my car, my insurance. Therefore if I let you drive it, I have to make sure you didn’t wreck it,” the chicken snarked gently, adjusting his mirrors before he restarted the ignition. It was nice to finally have his license back. And his car. And his record relatively spotless aside from being banned from Tokyolk for life.

“So…” Fenton tapped his knees rhythmically as Gyro drove out of the parking lot, “how’d the session with Elaine go?”

“Fine, I suppose.” Gyro shrugged. “We talked more about reincarnation than my life this time, but I guess it helped since I don’t really talk about that with anybody.”

“So I’m not anybody now?” Fenton gasped, pretending to be offended.

“Oh shush,” Gyro snorted, using his turn signal to make a left. “She wants me to set goals for myself during my days with Boyd. Like asking how his day is and taking him places.”

“That should be easy! You already do that.”

“Yeah, well, now I have to do it doubly.” Gyro adjusted the overhead mirror, frowning as he then caught sight of a duffel bag in his backseat. “You didn’t try ‘Gizmoducking’ in my car, did you?”

“N-No, of course not! I just wanted to be prepared in case anything were to happen, and I had to jump in the line of duty.”

“Well,” Gyro clicked his tongue, “if ever that be the case, you better get yourself and the armor out of the car before you activate it, understood?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Fenton snickered, trying not to choke on any louder laughter as Gyro gave a muted glare at him.

When he pulled up to the driveway of the Drakes’, Doofus was already waiting for them, quickly ushering Boyd over to the car as quickly as he could.

“LEAVE. LEAVE NOW,” Doofus demanded of the driver, trying to shove Boyd into the car as quickly as he could so he could have domain of his home again.

“Hi Dr. Gearloose!” Boyd chirped delightfully, in spite of the shoving. “Hi Fenton!”

“Easy kid, you’re gonna scratch the paint,” Gyro scolded Doofus as he kept shoving Boyd into the back of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Boyd gave one last wave to his family before Gyro drove off.

“I gotta say, he’s really starting to warm up to you, Boyd,” Gyro spoke, glancing in the rearview mirror to catch Doofus’ puckered frown.

“I know right?”

“So is there anything you’d like to do now that I have you in the car, and we’re driving through the city?”

“You mean we’re not going straight to the lab?”

“I put Lil Bulb and Manny in charge for the afternoon.” Gyro glanced to Fenton, who smirked at him. “My doctor said I’m not getting enough sun, but we all know Vitamin D is a myth-”

“It’s not a myth,” Fenton and Boyd both cut in.

“It's all a ploy to get people like me to cut back on valuable working hours, I swear-” Gyro began before Fenton cut him off with a playful nudge. “Well anyway, what do you want to do? I’m at your mercy.”

“Anything?” Boyd grinned.

“Anything.”

“Funso’s?”   
  
“Anything but that. You can go with your little friends later. The mascot deeply scares me.”

“And I have flashbacks from working there as a delivery driver,” Fenton chimed in. “Literally anything else please.”

“Hmm...” Boyd rubbed his chin. “That one cat cafe Gizmoduck and I saved from a cat burglar did offer us a superheroes’ discount for a free visit. Could we do that?”

“You know I love cats, and I probably won’t ever be able to leave, right?” Gyro smirked. “You’d be putting my job at risk.”

“Yes!” Boyd smiled cheekily. “Let’s go.”

“Alright then, you’ve been warned.” Gyro glanced to Fenton for reassurance he was promptly given.

That evening, after finally getting Gyro to leave the fluffy allure of cats in bow ties, getting dinner and dropping Fenton off at his home, Boyd was finally settled on Gyro’s bed, reading from a Raven Bradbury work. They didn’t read aloud, rather scanning the pages in comfortable silence.

“Ready to turn it?” Boyd asked.

“I think it’s the end of the chapter. Let’s continue it tomorrow,” Gyro assured. He marked the page, then peeled off his face mask, throwing it in the trash as Boyd scooted to the edge of the bed to head for the couch.

Before Gyro could turn off the light, Boyd tugged his shirt. “There’s supposedly going to be a thunderstorm around 3 AM. Could I maybe, um-”

Gyro sighed tiredly. “Yes. Just be warned I hog blankets.”

Boyd seemed to not mind that caveat, getting comfortable in the other side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling to count the grains as Gyro lay beside him, doing just about the same.

“Dr. G-...Dad?”

“...Yes?”

“I don’t think you’re that much different at all.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That concludes this story! Thank you for reading!


End file.
